Monday, January 13, 2014

Manali Missives 1/2014

Manali Missives 1/2014
A long pondered Issue On Love in India: 
A Reflection on Love, Sex and Marriage after 30 Years’ Matrimony

Every day dozens of newly wed couples promenade in India’s honeymoon central, the Manali Mall, photographing each other and frequenting its coffee shops. Brought together by parents and relatives in arranged marriages many of these couples scarcely know each other, so the arduous, even dangerous trips by Volvo bus to and from Manali and the time spent as tourists in the town and surrounds function as particularly important “quality time”. Central Manali is full of young marrieds getting to know each other as well as their surroundings. Some brides retain traces of their wedding finery - intricate patterns in henna on their hands and forearms, gold bangles and jewellery. Indian wives hold 11% of the world's gold, more than the reserves of USA, IMF, Switzerland and Germany put together. This is never more obvious than at weddings which frequently cost more than their relatively austere western counterparts. Love, sex and marriage seem even more important in this predominantly Hindu society than in the rest of the world. To borrow a Christian term Hindus regard marriage as a sacrament. Countrywide divorce statistics are not available, but one can safely say that although the rate of divorce in the cities is rising in step with the growing wealth and independence of women it is still generally much lower than in the West. Brides in Manali seem as happy to be married as brides anywhere, and one presumes that many of these couples will go on to successful marriages. And despite the preponderence of arranged marriages the huge film industry shows that the culture is intensely romantic. But there is an underside to this picture. In this still male-dominated society many women feel relatively powerless in loveless, conflicted relationships. With the weight of public and often family opinion against leaving a marriage, inadequate means of support if they they do leave, and often the implied, if not actual, threat of retributive violence women can be like birds in gilded cages. Worse yet, I have heard stories of brides suffering internal injuries. Obliquely put, the world-wide pornography industry, turbocharged by the internet, has not been a friend of women, in any country…

I met the second love of my life nearly 32 years ago not in Manali but in south India, and married her 20 months later in Sweden. Although my Lena's parents were Swedish, in the sense that she was born and mostly raised in India she's a native of this country. I’m an Australian native for whom India has become another of my life's loves. People often find our story romantic. We admit that it's unusual, and are proud of it because it's ours, so it’s hardly surprising that we recently spent a week in Delhi celebrating 30 years of marriage. Being westerners, the story of our relationship differs markedly from that of most Indians, yet our attitude to marriage also differs from those of many fellow westerners. What, for example, is this about Lena being the "second" love of my life? To say that I met the first love of my life, the Lord God, over 43 years ago risks taking the romantic wind from the sails of this other story, relativizing my love for the woman who, in the normally understood sense, has been the love of my life for more than 30 years. In a culture that tends both to absolutise and, strangely, trivialise romantic love that notion sits strangely. Yet Lena is content with it. Indeed, she says the same of me: I am the second love of her life, after the Lord God. We are both convinced that this primary love, from and for the Lord God who created each of us, sets the secondary love we bear from and toward each other in its proper context, and enables it to function properly.

There's a wild, obsessive quality to sexual desire and love that isn't satisfied with second place. All societies, cultures and perhaps all individuals know this. The author of the bible's Song of Songs did:
"Set me as a seal upon your heart,
as a seal upon your arm,
for love is strong as death,
jealousy is fierce as the grave." Song of Solomon 8:6
But it’s one thing to describe sexual love and quite another to control and channel it. It colonizes our thought patterns and routines, leading us into paths we had never expected and can find deeply disturbing. Swedish artist Eva Dahlgren has written and performed a beautiful, haunting song called "When a wild red rose blooms it's scent permeates the whole forest". Even if you don't understand Swedish you can intuit from the music that this is a love song, or at least a song about love. But what's the wild red rose about? Some years ago Dahlgren entered a "registered partnership" with her lesbian lover. I presume that in this song she is arguing that this "wild red rose", her lesbian love relationship, makes the whole forest of human society smell better. Judging by the many congratulations Lena and I, and other heterosexual, married couples have received upon achieving milestones in our relationships it seems that people feel that our cultivated red rose makes society smell better. In this song Dahlgren argues for legitimacy for what so often and so strongly has been felt to be deeply illegitimate, at least in the society of which Dahlgren is a part.

In so doing she has contributed to a huge argument within and beyond western society about what is sexually normal and acceptable. There’s a strong tradition within the Christian Church, which has set the tone in describing and explaining right behaviour within western society and Christian communities everywhere, that is summarized by the phrases "faithfulness within marriage, chastity outside of it”, and "marriage is the lifelong union of a man and a woman". These stances derive, summary-wise, from the seventh of the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:14 “You shall not commit adultery.”); injunctions, particularly in several New Testament letters, against fornication; and the moral of the second creation story (Genesis 2:24 "Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.") quoted by Jesus against the idea of divorce (Matthew 19:4-6, inter alia). Statistics indicate, however, that this view is observed relatively seldom. That begs the question of whether it is realistic. Furthermore, the authority of this "traditional" Christian teaching is itself under attack from both within and without, a consequence of post-modern suspicion of authority. And, of course, there are the attitudes of other cultures and religions to sexual love to consider. Which leads me back to India.

When westerners think of sexual love in India we often point to the Kama Sutra and the highly erotic and graphic temple carvings at Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh. The Kama Sutra is an ancient Indian Hindu text widely considered to be the standard work on human sexual behaviour in Sanskrit literature. Only a portion of the work consists of practical advice on sexual intercourse, but this, inevitably, is what has captured the imagination of the West. It addresses "Kama", meaning sensual, aesthetic or sexual pleasure, which is one of life's four goals according to Hindus. The other three are Dharma (Virtuous living), Artha (Material prosperity) and Moksha (Liberation from earthly existence). India, the land of contrasts and contradictions! Although, as I mentioned, most Indian marriages are still arranged, romantic love and sexuality have long been the subject of fascinated enquiry. They are looked upon as an essential part of the study of aesthetics: srngararasa - the erotic rasa or flavour - being one of the nine rasas or comprising the Hindu aesthetic system. It's a testimony to Hinduism's ability to absorb and transform its conquerors that both Hindu and Muslim courts commissioned and had painted numerous miniatures that show how to maximize sexual pleasure. Though this was anathema to the strictest interpretations of Middle Eastern Islam both then and now, it flourished in Mughal India, particularly in the south Indian Mughal kingdom of Hyderabad, far from the stern eye of Muslim orthodoxy.

In White Mughals: Love and Betrayal in Eighteenth-Century India William Dalrymple has retold a tragic, true story that brings together many of the elements I’ve been discussing. I shall review it. In 1798 Khair un-Nissa, the beautiful, fourteen year old daughter of Persian, Muslim nobles who had fairly recently migrated to Hyderabad, was betrothed to an old man. She strenuously opposed this marriage, which  brought her into conflict with her grandfather who had arranged it, largely for the advancement of the family in Hyderabadi society. Instead, she fell (conveniently?) in love with James Achille Kirkpatrick, the 34 year old British Resident (representative of the British East India Company) in Hyderabad. She seduced him, (something he admitted was not difficult to achieve!) and they embarked on a passionate love affair that scandalised both Hyderabad's Moghul, Muslim society and the Company's leadership which at that time was growing increasingly “Victorian", morally strait-laced, racist and unwilling to approve of let alone adopt any aspect of the cultures they ruled. Rudyard Kipling faithfully represented later Victorian Great Britain with his famous quote: “East is east and West is west, and never the twain shall meet.”

Nevertheless, Khair un-Nissa had the support of her mother and grandmother, and the zenana, (literally the part of a house belonging to a South Asian Hindu or Muslim family which was reserved for the women of the household, but often meaning the women themselves, who could wield much power). They gave Kirkpatrick access to Khair, then outmanoeuvred Khair's grandfather, so that when she fell pregnant she was able to marry Kirkpatrick (in a Muslim ceremony after he had been circumsized to conform with Muslim practice) before the child was born. Kirkpatrick belonged to an earlier generation of “India hands” who adopted and celebrated many aspects of Indian culture, not least by forming of relationships with Indian women. Having got rid of his south Indian mistress in favour of Khair, Kirkpatrick was then, to his credit, faithful to the latter through 4 separate Company investigations into his behaviour, and was acquitted on each occasion of the charge of having "debauched" Khair. The marriage held.

Kirkpatrick excelled as Company Resident, largely because he did adopt Indian/Moghul dress, customs and even the Shia Islamic faith, and was, naturally, highly thought of by his hosts. He designed and had built a wonderful residence for himself, his young but accomplished wife and their two children. The family enjoyed a short period of wealth and happiness. In another, different time that might have been the end of the story. But Kirkpatrick, realising that Britain was moving towards adopting more racist, white supremacist attitudes, reasoned that the best chance his Anglo-Indian children had of securing acceptance and prosperity was if they were educated in Britain. So to Britain they were sent, aged 3 and 18 months, via a 6 month voyage, breaking their mother's heart. Kirkpatrick rushed from Hyderabad to Madras to see them one last time before their ship left, then journeyed on to the Company headquarters in Calcutta. Tragically, not only was he too late to see them but his bad health worsened en route and he died aged 41, far from home, children and the love of his life, leaving Khair a 19 year old widow bereft of her children.

This story grew still more tragic. A year later Khair and her mother took the enormous journey (by elephant!) to Calcutta to grieve at her husband's grave. While she was away the old king (Nizam) of Hyderabad and his chief minister both died. Their successors were not nearly as sympathetic to Khair and her family. The minister, embittered by what he felt was her family’s previous opposition, refused to allow her back to Hyderabad. Now homeless as well as without husband and children, the desperate Khair formed a brief relationship with one of Kirkpatrick’s former subordinates, who installed her, her mother and their retinue in a stinking coastal backwater north of Madras and nicknamed “Fish Town”, then promptly neglected her when it suited him. Khair died, perhaps literally of a broken heart, aged 27.

This was a real life love tragedy in the class of Romeo and Juliet, a English/Persian saga played out in India. Of course India has its own indigenous versions of the great Shakespearean tragedy. Punjabi culture, for example, (part of the Punjab lies within the Diocese of Amritsar in which we are serving) has at least 4 of them. Mirza Sahiba, named for its hero and heroine respectively, is currently the best known, the plot having been made contemporaneous in the 2012 “Pollywood" (Punjabi Bollywood) movie Mirza - The Untold Story. These tales mirror tragic real life situations that feature regularly in India’s regional and national media.

So what is one, from the perspective of 30 years’ marriage, to make of sexual passion and its often tragic results? Is sexual love like a virus that drives humans mad, causing dissension and destruction? Is it to be eradicated, controlled, expressed, given free rein or some combination of the above? Was Khair un-Nissa a Perso-Hyderabadi Laila who lured the all-too-willing Kirkpatrick into a liaison that advantaged her? Clearly not, I think. She was an unusually young, able and passionate woman who wanted the things women typically desire of life: to be loved, to love in return and to form a family. She had a “red hot go” at achieving these things, and were it not for pig-headed, power-hungry males of both cultures and, primarily, her husband’s death, she may have succeeded. My sadness for her is that she was so alone in her quest. I presume she was a devout Muslim, but Dalrymple gives no indication that she prayed even to Allah for help in her difficult situation. This is no criticism of her. Her instincts were no doubt good and the odds she faced where overwhelming, but as she found out to her terrible cost no man can ultimately protect and fulfil a woman. My experience is that the God who is faithfully represented by Jesus Christ, wants very much to protect, support and nourish all humans, and indeed the whole creation. Marriage is one of the main means God has provided for this, and it is designed to include God in a kind of stable three-legged stool.

I’ve already indicated that Kirkpatrick was neither a child molester nor a Don Juan, and I find much to admire in his inclusive, non-racist approach to his life in India. By the way, this story provides a warning not to too easily force actions, events and characters to conform to our particular cultural expectations. Firstly, we need to be very careful about criticising and rejecting other cultures as the Victorian British did. That way terrible arrogance lies; I suspect the British Raj sowed the seeds of its eventual demise by behaving like this. Secondly, in all the current, justified outrage over sexual abuse of minors we need to remember that Mary, the mother of Jesus, was probably a minor in our terms. Girls in many cultures where the life expectancy is much shorter than that of westerners are generally married off soon after puberty. However, my question that Kirkpatrick’s behaviour begs is, even if the possibility that this might happen was understood and accepted by her, how he could cast off his south Indian concubine in favour of someone younger, richer, prettier, and fairer? That is a nightmare many women fear. Sexual desire and love are very powerful motivators but they do not justify abandoning normal good behaviour towards others. The greatest of the 4 terms for love the word-rich Greek language used, at least in the New Testament, was not eros, but agape, the selfless love that seeks the best for love’s object. By God’s grace humans are not at the mercy of our passions and lusts.

While working on this blog in Café Manali the other day I was interrupted by a young couple arguing. The girl even started swearing in English, perhaps to embarrass her man in front of me. Whether this was a lovers’ spat or an expression of dismay at being forced together by their respective communities I’ll never know. If they had chosen to engage me in their conversation I might have had a deal to say. For me, after 30 years my marriage with Lena means many things. Chief among them, it is a hint of eternal life to come, and a sanctification and preparation for it. How do that relate to passionate sexual desire and love, one might ask? Well, whoever thought that the God who created sex and love is not also passionate?!

We pray for God’s blessings upon you in 2014, and as you work through this cluster of issues yourself!

David Reichardt

Manali Missives 6/2013

Manali Missives 6/2013

Christmas is over and 2014 is just around the corner. This year's celebrations have been totally different to what either of us have experienced. It is the first Christmas as a married couple that we have been on our own, just the 2 of us. We have celebrated Christmas in many different countries but we have always had our children or Swedish/Australian extended families celebrating with us. This year was also a white Christmas, a snow blanket covered Manali and surrounding areas some days before and made it difficult to get in and out of the town.

We left Manali in the middle of December and went to New Delhi to celebrate 30 years of married life. These 30 years have been filled with adventures, good times as well as bad and are certainly worth celebrating. We travelled to New Delhi on the "Volvo" bus which leaves Manali in the evening and reaches Delhi around 8am in the morning. The question arises if this is so that the travellers will be unaware of the winding narrow roads and the breakneck speed at which it travels! On the way to Delhi we had one woman who really did not like the winding roads, this event caused the conductor to walk around in the bus offering all of us a vomit bag. The rest of the journey was pretty uneventful and we arrived in Delhi at about 7.30. Even before the bus had stopped at the Kashmiri gates we could see all the taxi and auto drivers discussing who was going to take us to our destination. We ended up paying more than double the normal rate to the auto driver, not only because we were "rich white people" but also because our destination was in the second richest part of Delhi. After a quick breakfast we were picked up by Drs Shyamala and Sunil Anand, the most hospitable and lovely couple, and taken to church. Dr Sunil Anand is the director for The Leprosy Mission India. After a nice lunch all 4 of us retired to our bedrooms for a nice rest. 

Every country has its own smells and noises and we discovered that it can also vary from town to town. In Delhi there were the crows, the vendors calling out, the traffic, the dogs barking, the kites whistling, the vehicle horns (so many different varieties), generators starting up and humming away and happy children playing. In Manali there are no kites, no vendors and fewer vehicles. We have also discovered that the dogs in Manali bark mainly at night! There are also the different smells - incense, flowers, cooking oil, spices, sewage, urine and other unmentionable smells. Some countries can be quite overpowering on the senses, India is one of them.

I recently started rereading "Shantaram" by Gregory David Roberts and in the first chapter the author talks about "the worst good smell" as the first thing that hits him as he gets off the plane in Mumbai. He adds - The smell of hope and despair, of greed and love, of decay and new growth- to my list above. The smell of Life and Death.
I really enjoy this book which is based on true life, and is the story of Gregory Roberts' escape from a prison in Melbourne. He ends up in the slums of Mumbai and there he starts his life as a helper to the poorest of the poor. Gregory Roberts now lives in Mumbai and you can sense his love for that country as soon as you open the book. 

Going to Delhi was not only so that we could celebrate our anniversary and renew friendships but also to spend some time away from the work place. We had a nice break and enjoyed ourselves. even though Delhi is not the most romantic place as my brother in law suggested. i think that any place can be romantic, it all depends on whom you share it with!
Interestingly enough, the well known monuments we went to were not teeming with people and crowds the way one expects in India. On the other hand the Metro in Delhi, a very convenient way of travelling, had carriages that were so full that at times we could have done with a people pusher helping to pack the trains. People were very friendly, even the very persistent ones wanting our money to help us see the sights of Delhi on rickshaws or autos. Never in my life have I had seats offered to me as frequently as in the metro trains in Delhi. The first carriage is reserved for women and no men are allowed in there. In the other carriages there are seats reserved for ladies and for elderly and physically challenged. All the announcements were in Hindi and beautifully clear English.

We went to some of the famous monuments - The Red fort, The Old fort, Chandni Chowk (which is part of Old Delhi and is a very famous shopping street), Connaught Circus and Parliament House. We also went to a couple of the modern shopping malls which could have been in Australia. We saw the second part of the movie The Hobbit - The desolation of Smaug. David also visited a couple of bike shops to buy some tools for the second hand bike he purchased here in Manali. He has thoroughly enjoyed exploring the surrounding areas on his bike, but at present the bike is sitting in our spare room unused as the icy and snowy weather makes the roads here quite dangerous.

We arrived back in Manali on a Sunday afternoon, after an interesting bus ride. Interestingly enough I met a patient's mother at the bus stand in Delhi, she recognized me! This mother lives in Mandir, some hundreds of kilometers away from Manali. 

It started raining almost as soon as we got out of Delhi and the drive was a bit slower than the previous one. On the seat behind us we had a classic snorer, he hrumphed and whistled, rattled and wheezed, stopped breathing for a while and then drew an enormous breath which almost shook our seats. He snored all the way from Delhi to Mandir where he and his wife got off. After a while the rain turned to sleet and then to snow. the meeting vehicles all had 3-400 mms of snow on there roofs. We got as far as Pathlikul and then the bus driver stopped and told us he was not going to go any further. Many taxis went by and picked up the passengers and took them to Manali at exorbitant prices. David phoned Dr Philip Alexander who sent a 4 wheel vehicle to rescue us. On the bus was a family of 4 from Bangalore who had tried getting to Manali the day before by plane to Kullu but the plane could not land and had to return to Delhi. Now they were stopped again but were enjoying themselves immensely in the snow. The flakes that were falling slowly to the ground were enormous and the 2 children (and the mother) could not hide their excitement. After a 3 hours wait the vehicle from Manali finally arrived, this is how long it took him to drive 15 kms!

It was a relief to get back safely to Manali, the superintendent has jokingly said that if they want snow in Manali they should get the Reichardts to travel!

We have been back in Manali for a week now and life is back to normal. David has been busy writing and sending out letters to school principals and pastors all over Himachal Pradesh Punjab and Jammu and Kashmir. He has already had some responses and he is very excited about the developing prospects of travelling around and encouraging school children to think about the environment. While in Delhi we met up with the Al Gore trained climate change presenter and David and he had a very interesting discussion. They are hoping to work together in the future.

David feels that finally thing are starting to happen at a larger scale. He is also progressing with his hindi and is now able to read even though at a slow speed. David is forming a friendship with his young teacher who is a fairly new Christian. They are sharing bible verses via phone messages and David joined him on Christmas day for afternoon tea with some of his non christian friends. Krishna, the young hindi teacher, is also taking the opportunity to ask David questions of faith and how to share it with his friends.

On Christmas eve we went to some friends in Manali for dinner and on Christmas day after a 2 hour service we had a congregational meal outside. More than 700 people attended. We didn't get much of a holiday as I was back at work the next day. In the evening of Boxing day we went to the Dar ul Fazl orphanage and boarding school for some program but missed most of the program run by the children only to sit through an hour long sermon followed by singing by Uncle Wilson, a wonderful Christian man. David often quotes a saying from his Salur days - first the greeting, then the meeting and then the eating, so in true Indian style we had a meal in the school yard with 2 big blazing bonfires (aided by some kerosene). The people here love dancing and that is how the evening ended.

I continue to see children in the OPD, sometimes the staff ask me if I mind seeing older children, the ones in their forties or fifties or even older. We have been very short on doctors so we all do our bit to help.

On Friday I saw a 4 year old child, the mother came to me as she was concerned about the child not eating and walking. This little child had an enormous cleft palate and there is no way that he could eat any food as it would have ended up in the nasal passage. The child also had signs of cerebral palsy, and hopefully they will attend physiotherapy classes and get help from an organization based in Kullu.

I continue to wage war against parents giving their new borns cow's milk. We have small children who come with amoebiasis and other nasties as they have been given water or dirty milk. Today I saw a mother who complained that the baby was not putting on any weight. I discovered that she thought is enough to give the baby milk 3 times per day! Lately the most common complaint has been colds and coughs not unlike Sydney in winter.

My dream is to get more involved with the baby health clinic when the immunizations are given. It has been difficult to get away from the main OPD as so many sick people come and we are still short of doctors. There is an enormous need for education in regards to feeding children. I would also like to pick up problems when they are small and not when they have struggled for years like the child I mentioned earlier with the cleft palate.

We continue going to the home group on Fridays, we had a good discussion last Friday.

Snow has been forecasted for the coming 2-3 days, if this is so not many patients will be able to get to the hospital. This will give me some time to catch up on medical things but I worry about the sick people who will have to struggle at home. There is such a great need here for doctors, nursing staff, better roads, better medical equipment (the CT scanner is still not up and working) and environmental awareness. Most of all there is a great need for the light and love of Christ to be shared with all.

Lena

Manali Missives 5/2013

Manali Missives, Christmas 2013
On Travel in India

Travelling in India is filled with amazing experiences. At any one time there are more people moving around this vast country than many nations have citizens. The logistics of transporting this shifting multitude across a land at least as diverse as all of Europe, with 16 major languages, hundreds of dialects and enormous variations in culture and socio-economic status, are enormous. That, allied with the constant challenge of providing adequate transport infrastructure for a swiftly growing population, and the equally evident  resourcefulness of Indians engaged in businesses dependent upon the transport industry, and you have a recipe for fascinating memories. The distinctive call of the chai wallahs selling tea through open windows to train passengers at stations; dried, cracked rice paddies stretching out into the heat haze at the height of summer; creeping through Delhi’s interminable satellites cities and suburbs towards Nizamuddin Station, where I (David) once saved an elderly woman and her son from toppling down the enormous escalator…

My earliest memory of India is of landing at Madras International Airport on the first day of 1977, staring through the aircraft’s porthole and seeing, side by side, a statue of a dancing, multi-armed goddess and a soldier standing rigidly at ease (if one can be rigidly at ease), holding a bayoneted 303 rifle, his skinny legs sticking out from under his enormous Bombay bloomers. 

“OK,” I thought. “This place is going to be different.”

And so it has proved! There followed the first of many queueing experiences, on this occasion to run the gauntlets of Customs and Immigration. Though in the middle of the night and the Tamil version of winter it was still stiflingly warm. Much has changed in the intervening years, however. Visas are now easily obtained. In Australia processing has been outsourced to a private company, and apart from tight security the whole process of passing through Indian airports proceeds smoothly in both directions. 

A couple of years ago I flew internally in India for the first time. That several nimble, keen young airlines now compete with Indian Airlines (the state-owned corporation that recently merged with Air India), and the union government’s emphasis upon providing modern airports in major centres have contributed to a great improvement in Indian aviation, though also, unfortunately, to the nearly ubiquitous air pollution. I’m amazed at the size of the market, too. A number of the young professionals I’ve spoken with seem as au fait with, even as casual about flying as young westerners.

A few days after landing in Madras that first time I had my first experience of Indian buses. My travelling companion and I undertook the three hour journey to Vellore, where we investigated the famous Christian Medical College and Hospital, and Schieffelin Leprosy Research & Training Centre at nearby Karigiri. While we worried about the placement of our packs, tied tenuously to the roof of the bus, our fellow-travellers were fascinated by my Rubik’s Cube, then all the rage in western countries. Those buses, inevitably overcrowded and underpowered, sounded as though they were setting land speed records, but when I later lived for some months at Karigiri I was able to tailgate them between the two centres on my Indian bicycle. Once again, much has changed. These days the drivers of high-powered Volvos and Mercedes Benzes often do seem to be trying to set records, or at least keep up with difficult schedules, on narrow, hectically overcrowded roads, between major centres. Even local buses have more power than they used to. Passing another bus with centimetres to spare and both travelling at more than 100kph is not for the faint-hearted. Inevitably, and despite Indian drivers’ acute sense of space and where other vehicles are in relation to their own, accidents are frequent. 

Despite the recent commissioning of the INS Vikrant, the nation’s first aircraft carrier, India is not known as a maritime nation. It does, however, have a long coastline, and I have good memories of boat trips here too. My first was a 24 hour trip on the deck of a steamer from Goa to Bombay, also in 1977. The weather was balmy, the food was simple, Indian and adequate, and the surroundings and company were never less than fascinating. Once in Bombay we headed to the offshore Elephanta Caves, during which ride I had my first, bewildering exposure to the whole system of philosophy, religion and life that is Hinduism. 

“We believe in 33 million gods”, my teacher explained. “But actually, we believe in only 3 gods, Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Sustainer and Shiva the Destroyer. Then again, we believe in one god. Or if you will, you can believe in no gods at all.” 

Trained, as all westerners are, to be a dualist, to understand that A is not B, I had no way to respond to such nonchalant monism.

“OK,” I thought again, “it might take some time to understand this…”

But it’s the famous Indian railway system that has left the greatest impression on me. For patriotic Indians the British legacy is mixed, but most I have spoken with on the matter are grateful for the railway system that has bound Bharat together. Many hours spent at close quarters with diverse travel companions have provided me with an invaluable Indian education. Travelling, over many years, by second class in compartments with three tiers of bunks has enabled spending time and even bonding with a whole array of characters who have wanted to practise their English, share their opinions and insights about their country, culture and religion, or get to know me. One of my all-time favourite memories is of tag teaming with my son to discuss with two Muslim passengers why Christians believe that God allowed His Son to die. For Muslims it is of course impossible that God could have a son, and Jesus’ (Isa’s) death on the cross was such a terrible dishonour that they don’t believe it happened. But Lena reported that other passengers in the carriage were translating the conversation to their fellows. Such an honour!

Of course not all my experiences of travel in India have been positive. I remember trying desperately not to stare in horror at a beggar, whose selling point was the dead Siamese twin emerging from his chest, plying his “trade” in the bus I’d boarded. We’ve had luggage robbed, I’ve had soft drink snatched, been hit by a stone thrown by a “trainspotter” and had a piece of soot lodge so firmly in my eye that it required a visit to a Sikh ophthalmologist to remove. I’ve slept on a carriage floor, sitting upright on a huge bag of hemp (rope!) outside a toilet, and across 2 top bunks 2 metres off the floor. Twice I’ve spent a night on railway platforms, having miscalculated a journey. The second occasion resulted in me catching a 6am bus to meet my worried friends, hemmed in by many small village women taking baskets of live chickens and other produce to market! Years later I re-visited the same friends, who delightedly drove me to the scene of my mistake! 

But even seemingly negative experiences contribute to the great tapestry of travel in India. In 2007 Lena, her sisters and their families travelled by private vehicle to Seja, the remote village in the central state of Madhya Pradesh where their parents had worked for 15 years. A mid-journey refreshments break drew a crowd of at least 50 young men whose stares indicated unabashedly that they hadn’t seen many blonde women before. When we resumed the journey several followed, worryingly, on motorbikes. But my fears were unfounded. They turned out to be very pleasant; one even let me ride his machine. 

That set off something in me. Until then I hadn’t driven or ridden a powered vehicle in India, but had been “chauffeured" everywhere, from being seated in the Guyanese ambassador’s vehicle to an annual Republic Day parade in Delhi, to hitching a ride on the back of a lorry in rural Andhra Pradesh. But within a couple of years I was back in Andhra, riding a borrowed motorbike from the port city of Visakhapatnam to my old haunt, the leprosy hospital in Salur, and back, In so doing I fulfilled a “bucket list wish” to ride a motorbike up the main street of Salur to the hospital. There had been significant improvement to the road network in 23 years to cope with the explosion in numbers of motor vehicles; part of my journey was along the dual carriageway that now links India’s major cities. But the major value of that trip was in learning the unwritten road rules that pertain in this country. Keep sounding the horn, especially when approaching points of constriction, to let others know where you are! Just because it’s dual carriageway don’t assume you won’t meet something - a bullock cart, or a tractor, or a family on a moped - coming straight at you as they take a shortcut from one side of the highway to the other! And most basically, the traffic is of bewildering variety, travels at all sorts of speeds, and drivers are, in the main, considerate. The experience was a lot of fun!

It’s just as well I think that because my ecological project with the Amritsar Diocese of the Church of North India will require me to drive a lot, largely on narrow, steep, poorly-maintained, landslide-prone Himalayan roads. Several weeks ago Dr Ranjit Christopher, Lady Willingdon Hospital’s administrator, and I travelled by express buses to the diocesan headquarters in Amritsar. There a white Mahindra Scorpio Hawk, a locally manufactured SUV purchased by Amritsar Diocese with money donated by UnitingWorld, the overseas division of the Uniting Church in Australia, to be used for my project, was waiting. The Scorpio is well-made and admirably designed for local conditions. We returned in it via Chandigarh, India’s richest, most orderly city, where “Christo” shopped for the hospital and I for furnishings for our flat in Manali. 

One good thing about driving back to Manali ourselves was that we had our fate partially in our own hands! Although it was night the return trip went well until we approached the border between the states of Punjab and Himachal Pradesh. Suddenly National Highway 21 was transformed into a dry creek bed! The traffic bunched into a line of bucking, twisting trucks, buses, passenger vehicles and motorbikes, each searching for the smoothest way through, and to overtake slower-moving vehicles while avoiding oncoming traffic. As each vehicle kicked up a curtain of fine, ubiquitous Indian dust that diffused the lights of that traffic the scene reminded me of a World War II convoy of ships in a fierce storm. Having negotiated that section of wrecked road we continued to the town of Swarghat, just in Himachal Pradesh. Christo instructed me to put my lights onto high beam, drive in the centre of the road and not to slow down. I thought we must have entered a bandit-infested area. We had not: Christo feared that because the Scorpio was registered in Punjab, Himachali toll collectors were likely to charge steep tolls if they noticed us! Having avoided this peril too I drove on deeper into the Himalayas, learning local driving tricks on the job by tailing a manically descending and overtaking lorry. With hands, feet, eyes and brain ceaselessly in motion, I was filled with exhilaration by this form of driving, so different from anything I’ve done before. 

By 1am Christo was at the wheel. The traffic had disappeared and we were singing revival hymns in harmony when we were stopped by 5 policemen. Again my concern was unfounded. When Christo explained that we were delivering a new vehicle for the use of the Mission Hospital in Manali the lead officer immediately nodded in understanding and waved us on. That was my best indication yet of the regard in which Lady Willingdon Hospital is held. Christo tested out the Scorpio on the narrow mountain road with some fast precision driving, and it responded wonderfully well, getting us back to Manali by 3am.

A couple of weeks later I was one of the designated drivers and Lena one of the doctors for a weekend expedition to Jibhi and Gadagushani, two remote, Himalayan villages somewhat south of Manali. At Jibhi there is a complete, though little used hospital; at Gadagushani a clinic. The driving was even more hazardous than the trip back from Amritsar  had been. The roads were rougher and narrower, and frequently resembled 4 wheel drive tracks clinging to the sides of precipices. For many kilometres I rarely shifted beyond second gear. The views, as you might expect, were…well…Himalayan! My main learning was how to negotiate passing oncoming buses and trucks on a one lane mountain road with a wall on one side and a precipice on the other!

As a designated driver I had little to do at Gadagushani once the medical team sprang into action, so I took photos. One scene that particularly struck me was of two women bearing enormous loads of hay. Having rested on their loads in the open field in which the clinic was situated they stood up and, slowly and methodically, walked across the steep slope into the distance. “Shanks pony”: that was the main form of travel for ordinary people in Jesus’ time, and for Jesus Himself. In this land of Mahatma Gandhi, and despite India’s swift development it still is for probably the majority of Indians to this day. 

The whole issue of transport highlights and symbolises the quandary that development places nations in. Without adequate transport systems it is impossible to improve people’s lots. Road, rail and air transport infrastructure facilitate access, communications, commerce and promote many benefits, but they are hugely expensive, financially and ecologically. Governments tend to think first of military needs. Like the Romans did the Indians are developing a network of roads to move troops and supplies quickly to areas of threat. In a massive venture a 9 kilometre long tunnel is currently being built under nearby Rohtang Pass, the 4,000 metre high gateway to India’s far north and the Chinese border that is blocked by snow for at least 6 months each year. But like the German autobahns transport infrastructure can be a derivative blessing for civilian populations as well. The Rohtang Tunnel is likely to help people living in the remote north for whom those same snows prevent access to medical treatment and other necessities of life. On the other hand, once access is granted the newly mobile middle class are likely to join western tourists, infusing wealth into local economies but polluting and introducing a way of life foreign to that of the locals.

My most creative responses to this quandary thus far have been to use India’s excellent mobile network and commonly available, cheap wi-fi hotspots as much as possible for communicating, thus minimising the need to travel for face to face meetings, and to purchase a mountain bike. One day in June or July in the next 3 years I intend to join a group of cyclists who will cycle over Rohtang Pass and onwards for 400 kilometres to Lei, the capital of Ladakh. In the meantime, in lieu of trains I have four means of transport with which to traverse this great landscape: buses, Shadowfax II, the white Mahindra Scorpio SUV, The Green Machine Merida Matts mountain bike…and, best of all for climbing mountains, Shanks Pony! And I can also join Bishop Samantaroy’s annual motorbike ride for peace one year.

There are donkeys in Manali, but I don’t propose to put one of them to the same use as Joseph and Mary did. Just as the famed Roman roads of that period of history facilitated the spread of the good news of the birth, life, death and resurrection of their son Jesus I believe that we should also today use the technological means available to us to reach people with that same message, and with the practical help that so many people in this part of the world badly need. The discipline will be to do this while at the same time maintaining rigorous environmental protection. Is this possible? That is one of the fundamental questions my project will address. 

May you and your loved ones be richly blessed this Christmas.


David & Lena Reichardt
Lady Willingdon Hospital
Manali, Kullu Dist., H.P. 175131
India



Manali Missives 4/2013

It is now almost 2 months since we arrived in India. The weather has started getting cooler and there is snow on the surrounding mountain tops.

Manali lies at the top end of the Kullu valley with mountains surrounding the town. The Lady Willingdon hospital, or Manali Mission Hospital as it is also known as, lies very central in new Manali, close to the main shopping mall. The "mission compound" consists of the hospital, the Daystar School and a crèche. In the heart of this compound is the little church. The church meets every Sunday between 10-12 and there are also quite a number of home groups. David and Lena have joined an English speaking group which meets on Friday nights between 6-7.30 pm. At present we are studying the gospel of Luke. The group consists of Drs Philip and Anna Alexander, dentist Rhiya, physiotherapist Johanna, Dr Ranjit and his wife Pushpa (who is a social worker), Steve, an American, and his wife Rampui. There is also another American couple, Grant and Charlene, who are in Greece on holidays at present. Thomas, a hotel manager for one of the hotels in Old Manali, is a very well read member of this group and often has a different opinion from the other group members. Last night the discussion became quite loud and intense but we also laughed a lot. There are also 3 small boys present who add to the noise levels.

The hospital itself consists of an ICU (intensive care unit), with 4 beds. We have one ventilator. There is a small labour ward and a very tiny nursery. We also have an X-ray department, a theatre, a lab and a pharmacy. There are 55 beds available but during the winter some wards are closed as there are fewer patients and the rooms are difficult to heat.
We also have an OPD(out patient department), an emergency room and a Ultra sound room.

The staff here are wonderful and very friendly. The training is quite specialized, ie the anaesthetists are trained in giving spinal anaesthetic blocks and General anaesthetics but are not trained doctors.

At present we have quite a number of younger doctors (from all parts of India) who are doing part of their training here.
The patients come from the town, surrounding villages, the bigger town of Kullu, and also from Lahoul and Spiti which are villages on the other side of the Rothang  pass (3950m above sea level).

Lena is focusing on children, antenatal care and community health. Focusing may not be the best word as it is a wide area. The OPD runs from 10 am to 4 pm on Monday to Friday and on Saturday from 10 am to 1 pm. The daily work starts with devotions and then ward rounds. Lena now has a smattering of Hindi and can communicate quite well with patients and their parents.

There have been phone calls in the evening and at night regarding sick children and newborns which have meant another visit to the hospital. Great that the hospital is so close to our flat.

One morning Lena was woken up at 4.30 am after a forceps delivery. The baby was discovered to have a bowel malformation with no anal opening and a fistula between the bowel and the bladder. We were blessed to have a paediatric surgeon here at that time who was able to operate and make an opening on the stomach for the bowel.  The baby later developed an obstruction and was sent to Herbertpur where the paediatric surgeon works. There was no need at this time for any further intervention and the baby returned to Spiti via Manali only some days ago, looking quite well and feeding well.

One couple brought their child who was struggling to breathe due to bronchiolitis. The baby was just getting more and more unwell and in the end Lena tried using a nasal CPAP (central positive airways pressure) device which she had not seen before coming to Manali. She went over and prayed for the baby, in the name of Jesus, after having asked the permission of the parents. The baby finally turned the corner and the Sydney paediatrician which Lena keeps in touch with via email congratulated her on the treatment with nasal CPAP as this is apparently the latest treatment for severe bronchiolitis.

There is a lot of malnutrition and one little baby presented to the hospital with severe rickets, with bowing of the lower leg bones. This is so simple to prevent, just spend time in the sun and make sure there is an adequate intake of dairy foods (which are easily available here).

Drugs are readily available here, young children start sniffing various drugs and then proceed to alcohol, smoking cigarettes, marijuana and other heavier drugs like cocain and heroin. The smoking and dusty environment up the the Lahoul/Spiti valley leads to severe lung disease with chronic airways obstruction, add to this another very common infection - tuberculosis and you have patients with very little lung tissue left.

Marijuana is very common, it grows by the wayside even in the town of Manali. Luckily we have not yet had a bush fire here!

Last week there were 2 twin deliveries. One mother had 2 healthy boys weighing 1.5 and 1.75 kgs and these boys are doing really well. The other mother had a Caesarean section and had one healthy girl, the other twin had died at about 20 weeks gestation. There is an urgent need for a well qualified ultra sonographer who can give accurate reports.
David has started to give ecological talks in the Daystar school and is getting along well with the children there. He has also preached twice in the church here and will preach again tomorrow. Next week he will travel to Amritsar to pick up a vehicle that he will use when traveling to the surrounding schools and churches in Himachal Pradesh. The bishop has asked him to give a bible study when he is in Amritsar.

David has also started trying to learn Hindi. He is finding it difficult and bewildering. 

We have started making some friends and had afternoon tea with the principal of Daystar school and his family the other day. We were told that Himachal Pradesh has a very small minority of Christians, less than 0.1% of the population. There are a lot of temples dedicated to Durga, the wife of Shiva, the destroyer.

Thank you all for your support.

Manali Missives 3/2013

Manali Missives 3/2013
Lena & David Reichardt’s Blog

Welcome to the second Manali Missive! As I, David, write in a coffee shop cum corner store called “Super Bake” we have been in Manali for about 3 weeks. While Lena has started work as a doctor in Lady Willingdon Hospital I await a scoping conversation with Bishop Samantaroy of the Church of North India’s Amritsar Diocese, to which the hospital, the Manali Masihi Mandali church, the DayStar school and its associated daycare centre all belong. We have moved into and furnished a 2 bedroom flat in the middle of the Church's half hectare compound just off the main shopping plaza in central Manali. 

Super Bake is one floor up and overlooks a kind of courtyard in a shopping precinct just outside the compound’s back gate. The cappuccinos are pretty good here. It’s probably no coincidence that a middle-aged western man sporting a local hat and the kind of thin, cotton wrap-around robe that makes me think that he may have adopted some of the local religious customs, walks in. Like me he is interested in coffee! Unlike me he is as beautifully brown as many of the local residents! Hot on his heels are two young, east Asian tourists, one wearing a white face mask so popular in those cultures. Spying my laptop the other asks me about WiFi facilities. My computer detects 8 WiFi hotspots within range, including Super Bake’s own, and “Vicereine”, the Hospital’s source that I use. Twenty metres away is the white goods store where Lena and I bought our refrigerator, front-loading washing machine and several smaller items. Downstairs are a couple of outlets for Airtel, the telecommunications company we have started using.

Below a couple of young women walk by. One is dressed in a traditional Punjabi dress. Baggy pants with a drawstring around the waist, a long-sleeved shirt the length of a skirt and a scarf worn backwards is my crude, male description, but formal punjabi dresses look spectacular! The other has replaced her pants with jeans. Women seem to be adopting a hybrid, north Indian cum western look for casual use. Men, on the other hand seem to dress either in a wholly westernised or a totally indigenous way. Two teenaged girls who have just come in for a coffee would not look out of place at Nadia’s in Carlingford Court, particularly given the number of Indian immigrants in western Sydney these days! As I sat here writing yesterday afternoon the flock of schoolgirls and attendant boys who descended on the place behaved just like the congregations of youngsters one can see all over Sydney every weekday afternoon.

This describes one, modern face of Manali. Although the quality of building construction does not match Australian standards, mazes of wires loop alarmingly between buildings and seemingly under-employed young men are everywhere, so are mobile towers, small cars and cafés. Mobile coverage is routinely of a higher standard than I am used to in Australia, and I can get WiFi in many places for free.

This small town has as many faces as a Hindu goddess has arms! Its dominant aspect is its setting. Situated by the Beas River in the Kullu Valley, 2,000 metres up on the southern, Indian slopes of the Himalayas, earth’s mightiest mountain range, wherever one looks row upon row of conifers march down impossibly steep mountain slopes. Lifted by the collision of the Indian tectonic plate with the Eurasian Plate, the Himalayan range runs, west-northwest to east-southeast, in an arc 2,400 kilometres long from just south of the northernmost bend of Indus river in Pakistan to just west of the great bend of the Tsangpo river. It varies in width from 400 kilometres in the west to 150 kilometres in the east. Three of the world's major rivers, the Indus, the Ganges and the Tsangpo-Brahmaputra all rise near Mount Kailash, sacred to Hinduism, to cross and encircle the Himalayas. Their combined catchment area is home to some 600 million people.

Hurtling down its course, wearing incessantly at the bed of boulders probably placed during the last ice age, the Beas River is a reminder of the Himalayas’ relative youth. Another is the other night's earthquake, a consequence of those collisions of tectonic plates. In contrast, Australia is a geological Methuselah, stable, and so worn down that much of it is exceptionally flat. From Silverton, out from Broken Hill, one can see the curvature of the earth. That thought would be incomprehensible in Manali. While water hurtles down the Beas River it often disappear in Australian rivers, and can take months to travel from source to mouth.

The Himalayas form innumerable meeting places for the world’s two most numerous people types, south Asian and east Asian. Two young women of the latter type making their purchases remind me that Tibet lies not far to the east. They have a lot to say to their Indian shopkeepers. In what language? Certainly not English! Westerners, of whom the British and their daughter cultures are the most prominent, are latecomers to this part of the world, and despite their power over the past few centuries they remain few in number. Although English is spoken by well-educated Indian professionals, “ordinary” people, such as most of Lena's patients and many church attenders, speak Hindi, India’s national language. But even Hindi may not suffice to communicate with locals. Up and down the Beas river several local languages bear little resemblance to Hindi, making communication difficult for Manali’s many internal immigrants. 

Similarly, the great mountain range both divides and includes many religions and cultures. The really high country tends be inhabited by Buddhists. We've all heard of the Tibetans, but the Ladakhis and Bhutanese are also Buddhists. Mountains are important for Hindus too - the Nepalis are mainly Hindu - but while mountains feature strongly in both the Muslim and Christian scriptures one wonders, given the preponderance of the 3 largest religions on the plains, whether Buddhism has not in a sense retreated to the hills as did the Hebrews, seeking refuge from the Philistines. Perhaps this is what the beginning of Psalm 121- "I lift my eyes to the hills, from whence comes my help" - is about. Whatever the truth of that matter mountains produce hardy folk. When we arrived at Lady Willingdon Hospital the tiny Nepalese watchman ran ahead of our vehicle, stopping to make sure we kept up, and guiding our driver to our block of units. He then grabbed our luggage, two heavy pieces at a time, and ran repeatedly up the two flights of stairs to our flat! 2,000 meters altitude was probably in the lowlands for Lok Bahadur! Perhaps he was a Gurkha!

A week ago Grant Campbell, an American who has lived here for 5 years, led me up one of the adjacent peaks, reconnoitering a route he wanted to take 35 young people on the following week. The ascent was tough, the descent worse, and the pain in my thighs for the next few days reminded me that I am no longer young, but the view on my first Himalayan hike was more than adequate compensation! From up there Manali's many faces - multi-storeyed buildings separated by narrow lane ways, tents cheek by jowl with prosperous hotels, templesl westerners, each, seemingly, on their own path to salvation, or meaning, beggars and hawkers gathering around Volvo buses, the traffic with its noise pollution and exhaust fumes, and the groups of locals and young honeymooners congregating in the plaza to see and be seen - disappeared. All I could distinguish was the conifer forest on the western side of the Beas River. We are charged 5 rupees to walk through this, and assured that the money will be used to ecological restoration. It's worth it, just to avoid the petrol fumes on the main road. And that returns me to the point of being here. Just as elsewhere around the world this magnificent landscape is under threat from humans. 50km north of Manali is Rohtang Pass. At just under 4,000 meters in altitude it connects Kullu Valley with the Lahaul and Spiti Valleys, and is one of the Himalayas' main high altitude passes. "Rohtang" means "pile of corpses", which refers to the large number of people who have died trying to cross the pass in bad weather! These days, however, Rohtang Pass is characterized more by the piles of rubbish left by the crowds of newly rich Indian middle class tourists who have driven there in their Suzuki Marutis, Tata Nanos, or ridden on their Hero Hondas or Enfields. The Himalayas are suffering from other forms of pollution too. The otherwise beautiful the Beas River stinks of human faeces at close quarters. That decreases the availability of drinking water and increases the range of communicable diseases in the valley, issues that Lena combats in her work in the hospital. Another issue in the Himalayas is deforestation. While India's new middle class express their freedom to travel many people in the Himalayas still subsist at a medieval standard of living. To cook food and keep warm they burn the most accessible fuel - wood. But trees also fulfil the vital function of holding soil in place on steep mountain slopes. Deforestation upstream in the Himalayas has allowed monsoonal rains to wash topsoil into the vast river delta we call Bangla Desh, exacerbating that country's regular problem with flooding. 

So does the rising sea levels caused by climate change. But climate change is also affecting the high Himalayas in the way that is perhaps most serious. After I preached last Sunday a glaciologist introduced himself. Having noted that this was the first time he had heard his area of professional expertise linked with his faith he confirmed that as elsewhere around the globe glaciers across the Himalayas are in retreat. If they finally disappear the more than 600 million people nurtured by the rivers that flow from them will be left without sufficient water. That will cause enormous suffering and social dislocation.

As an honorary ecotheological consultant  I shall work with Indian colleagues to inform schools, churches and other groups of interested people of the ecological threats this region faces, why humans are causing them and what can be done to combat them. Already significant work is being done in this regard but, as in Australia, a great deal more needs to be done. Lena will continue as she has started, working in the hospital. Although there is a large variety of work she is now the hospital's designated paediatrician. She is also putting her diploma in obstetrics and gynaecology to good use.

That is probably enough for now. Please comment, so that we will know better what to write.

Grace and peace!

Lena and David Reichardt

Manali Missives 2/2013

Manali Missives 2013, Issue 2
Supporting Lena and David Reichardt’s Indian Adventure 

Epping, NSW Australia

Tuesday, 16th July, 2013

Dear friend

You are one of the people or groups who have shown interest in the intended placements of Lena and David Reichardt as volunteers in the northern Indian town of Manali. These placements are to be for a period of 3 years, starting in September this year, through the Uniting Church's overseas division UnitingWorld, and with the Church of North India's Amritsar Diocese. Lena will work as a doctor at the Church's Lady Willingdon Hospital and surrounding clinics, and David will help to develop a program of lay education, focussing on ecological and ecotheological education, based in the hospital, but working in Manali and throughout the area covered by the Diocese. 

Thank you for your interest! There are several ways in which you can support us in this venture, if you are so minded. 

Firstly, encouragement. We have been very gratified by the interest of many people in what we propose to do. We hope this interest will continue to develop, and plan to keep in regular contact with people who want this contact. We intend to send monthly communiques via traditional mail, email, a weblog (Blog) and via Skype. Please indicate if you would like this. We call these communiques “Manali Missives”. We’ve already sent out the first of them. at the Blog address below with our other contact details:

Postal Address until August 31, 2013: 88 Carlingford Ave Epping NSW 2121 Australia
Postal Address from September 1, 2013: Lady Willingdon Hospital 
Manali 
Kullu District H.P. 175131 
India
Administrative address: c/- UnitingWorld 
PO Box A2266 
Sydney South NSW 1234  Australia
Lena’s email address: reichardtlena8@gmail.com
David’s email address: dcreichardt@gmail.com
Lena’s Skype address: lena.reichardt3
David’s Skype address: dcreichardt

A number of people have already indicated that they would like to visit us. You are welcome to do so. We will live in a simple but comfortable 2 bedroom flat, so there will be room so long as visits are coordinated!

Secondly, prayer. Many, though far from all of those who have expressed interest are involved in churches. We already have a group of people who pray regularly for us. If you would like to do that too, again, please tell us and we will gladly provide you with regular information and prayer points.

Thirdly, finance. Basically, UnitingWorld has undertaken to get us and our effects to India and back, to set us up in a flat that the hospital will provide with furniture etc., and to provide the Diocese with a vehicle that will be available for our use. We will have to provide for things back in Australia, such as paying our mortgage, superannuation and various insurances. 

However, we need help to provide a living allowance for the 3 years. Kathy Pereira of UnitingWorld has calculated that this will cost $AU 37,000 per year. UnitingWorld is organizing these finances for us. Once off donations are much appreciated, but promises of monthly donations really help them and us to plan for the future. Kathy reports that at present UnitingWorld have received promises of about one third of the monthly amount we will need.

If you have thought that you would like to assist us financially, but you have not got around to informing UnitingWorld yet it would help us and UnitingWorld enormously if you did so at your earliest convenience. To help you do this a copy of the brochure with the banking details form is attached. 

If you have not thought of doing this but would now like to, we gratefully welcome you as financial supporters. Again, please contact UnitingWorld with the help of the attached brochure.

If you have decided to prioritise other commitments before helping us we completely understand - we are used to prioritising aid commitments ourselves - and thank you for your interest, encouragement and prayers.

Yours sincerely,


Lena and David Reichardt
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Manali Missives 1/2013

Welcome to Manali Missives, the weblog for the next 3 and a bit years of Lena and David Reichardt. 

In two or three months we intend to relocate from our beautiful home at Epping, in suburban Sydney, Australia to Manali, 2,000 metres up in the Himalayas, in the northern Indian state of Himachal Pradesh. We shall leave jobs, Lena as a general practitioner in a medical practice in the suburb of Pennant Hills, and David as a Presbytery Minister in the Uniting Church in Australia’s Parramatta-Nepean Presbytery, to be seconded by UnitingWorld, the Uniting Church’s overseas agency, (www.unitingworld.org.au) to the Church of North India’s Amritsar Diocese (www.amritsardiocesecni.org) for a period of three years. Lena will work in the 55 bed Lady Willingdon Hospital (www.manalihospital.com), on which compound we shall also live. David, who has a PhD in ecotheology, has been asked to work as an educator with an emphasis on ecology across the whole Amritsar Diocese and beyond. Perhaps most importantly, we shall be tangible expressions of Australian and Swedish cooperation and friendship with India, and the Uniting Church’s cooperation and unity with the Church of North India.

Swedish? This story has a long genesis! Lena was born in India, the daughter of Swedish missionaries. We met in India and married while working for The Leprosy Mission during the early 1980s. We have lived both in Australia and Sweden, so these 3 countries have powerfully affected who we are. Not surprisingly, then, we shall represent not only the Uniting Church, which will send us and substantially support us, but the Church of Sweden of which we are both members. More specifically we have been members of a lay movement within the Church of Sweden called Evangeliska Fosterlands Stiftelsen (Swedish Church Relief) that has a long history of sending workers to India and Africa, and David is doubly (and episcopally, with the laying on of hands) ordained as a pastor within the Church of Sweden. This has two consequences. To work within a Church that exercises personal episcope (ie. that has bishops) will not be strange for either of us. And later this month Lena will fly home to Sweden for her sister’s 60th birthday, but also to seek support from the communities of Swedish Church Relief and the wider Church of Sweden.

Those most likely to be significant in our lives during these three years are the medical superintendent of Lady Willingdon Hospital Dr Philip Alexander,  his wife Dr Anna; and Pradeep Kumar (“Bunu”) Samantaroy, Bishop of the Amritsar Diocese, and his wife Lily, who is also a “presbyter” (minister) in the Church of North India. Philip, a surgeon specialising in gastroenterology, hails from the southern Indian state of Kerala. He did some of his specialist training at Sydney’s Westmead hospital, and spent six months in Broken Hill experiencing how Australians do regional and remote medicine, but also picking up the Aussie sense of humour! Anna is from the southern American state of Louisiana. A specialist in emergency medicine, she held a senior position in the U.S., but doing annual medical camps in Ladakh, then meeting Philip changed all that. Bunu and Lily come from the state of Orissa on India’s eastern seaboard. Like Philip and many other Indians they are internal migrants, and have had to learn new languages to be able to function in north-western India. But function they do, highly effectively. They are held in enormous regard by their presbyters and parishioners alike. All four are highly competent, dedicated to providing good health and pastoral care, and are devout Christians with nuanced understandings of living out and relating their faith in cross-cultural, multi-faith milieux. They are humble, which, in a highly hierarchical society is rare, and contributes to the love and esteem in which they are held. So does their commitment to the poor and the needy. Ironically, Manali is both India’s most popular honeymoon destination, attracting many young, newly wealthy middle class Indians, and it is on the main road to Ladakh, a poor, remote region high in the Himalayas, where medical attention is non-existent through the snowed-in winter months.

The Uniting Church has strong connections with the Amritsar Diocese. The UCA and the CNI are “partner churches” and, largely due to Bunu’s leadership personal relationships are starting to flourish within this framework. When David paid his first visit to the Diocese 18 months ago Bunu virtually rose from his sickbed (he was recuperating from dengue fever!) to include him in what they were doing. David was shown around for most of one day by a presbyter called Prakash William. Last month he was able to repay the favour when Rev Neil Smith, a regular visitor to the Diocese, left “Omprakash”, as he is known, and a colleague, Deepak Lal, who specialises in microfinancing, with David one sparkling Saturday morning.

But what will Lena and David do, and how shall we do it? It will be as simple as simply helping our Indian sisters and brothers. It will be as complex as having, from time to time, no idea how to do this! Lena is already in awe of Philip’s and Anna’s medical expertise, but at least she speaks Hindi! David has learnt and forgotten a southern Indian language called Telugu which, in the Punjab and the Himalayas, will be of less use than English! While he has taught for decades the prospect of educating people in the basic principles of ecology, in a language he doesn’t know yet, feels daunting. However, two things encourage us. One is the Bible passage David’s colleague Christine often quotes as she takes on jobs no one else seems to want: “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” (Phil. 4:13) The great value of cross-cultural exposure is that one is forced into situations outside of one’s comfort zone. That teaches one both to trust in God, and that with God’s help one has resources that are sufficient for the task. The other is that whatever we do, our being there, so long as we behave ourselves well, is the main thing. We will be symbols of solidarity, both Australian and western solidarity with India, and Christian solidarity, one part of the “body of Christ” with another. David has had the importance of this reinforced time and again by the sheer number of subcontinental Christians seeking his friendship via Facebook.

At present we are busy concluding the current phase of our lives and preparing for the next one. We have been greatly helped in this by Kathy Pereira, UnitingWorld’s Associate Director, Church Connections and Experience, and her assistant Laura McGilvray. We may not obtain paid employment in India for what we are being asked to do, and the Uniting Church no longer has enough money to completely fund overseas workers. Instead, UnitingWorld will pay, roughly speaking, to get us and our effects to and from India, and help set us up to live there, and we will have to see to our finances in Australia, such as house, insurance and superannuation payments. To raise funds for living expenses and the like Kathy and Laura are helping us find supporters. They have produced brochures promoting our cause, set up an account into which donations can be made, helped our West Epping Uniting Church (http://www.weppinguca.org.au) to stage a very successful Launch of our support-raising effort, and much more. 

Kathy estimates that if another 30 families/people commit to pledge $1000 per year (that is less than $20 per week or less than that frequently used measure, the cost of a cup of coffee a day!) then our placements based in Manali will be guaranteed. If you would like to donate money to the Manali Project, as we are calling it, contact Kathy Pereira (kathyp@unitingworld.org.au, mob. +61 437 699 693, w +61 2 8267 4250) or Laura McGilvray (lauramc@unitingworld.org.au, mob. +61 406 857 222, w +61 2 8267 4411), or fill in a hard or soft copy of the support response page on our brochure.

Though dependent upon finance and grateful that a good proportion has already been pledged, as an old mathematician David would say that is necessary but not sufficient. For us to prosper in northern India we will need people’s interest, friendship, support and prayer as well. As expatriate workers with The Leprosy Mission during the 1980s we sent periodic general letters home to our supporters. We wrote these by hand, posted them by snail mail, and they were typed up, copied and sent out by TLM’s office in Melbourne. Telephone connections were abysmal and visitors few. 

Today, information technology and the easy of intercontinental transport has revolutionised communications. Bunu and Philip joined and wow-ed the 120 people at the Launch last month via a Skype video connection! Text messaging by mobile phone is simple, effective and cheap. Facebook and other social media sites are very helpful communications tools. Emails come somewhere between text messaging and old fashioned letter-writing. And weblogs, so-called “blogs”, such as this one, enable a more considered discussion of ideas with a large audience. Populous developing countries such as India now have better mobile phone networks and wi-fi coverage than we have in Australia. And should anyone wish to visit us (the invitation is open!) Indian transport infrastructure has improved as well. Because of the proximity to Pakistan and Chinese Tibet, and the consequent presence of the Indian military the road to Manali is mostly good, though, because it passes through the Himalayas one is likely to negotiate the odd landslide!

We would love contact with you! Most of all we crave your prayers. Prayer is the sine qua non of the Christian life: nothing works without it. We would love you to join our “Manali Prayer Partnership”! If you would like to do that please contact us. You’ll receive a monthly prayer bulletin with news and suggestions for prayer, and a promise that we’ll pray for you too. So, for this month we would ask you to pray that:
  • the necessary financial support target will be reached before August so we can plan when to leave;
  • we will submit our visa applications within the next 2 weeks, and that they will be quickly approved;
  • that the various completions at work and at home (including concreting the storage shed’s floor and re-building its roof) will be completed well before we leave.
  • Lena’s trip to Sweden will go well.

We invite you to join us in our Manali adventure!

Grace and peace,


Lena and David Reichardt